Tag Archives: hairbrush

“Welcome to to the Spanksgiving Day Parade. I am Catherine Littlebum and I am here with Daniel Hardhand.”

“Welcome, We have a great parade in store for you today. I have seen some of today’s floats and they even better than last year. You are really going to see something special today.”

“That is for sure. This year, like always, is starting right on time.”

“This year it is being lead by the marching band, ‘Contrite Chrisses’. Is that? Yes it is! They are playing their world famous ‘Solemn Lullaby’! Oh what a wonderful tune.”

“That it is Daniel. It always sends a shiver down my spine when I hear it.”

“And a twitch in the bum?”

“Well that’s a given, Daniel. Next up is the float from St. Lucianna’s School for Naughty Girls.”

“Oh what a wonderful school scene they have. Those Nun habits look very authentic from up here. Those ‘schoolgirls’ may have graduated long ago, but they are surely learning some lessons today.”

“Especially that redhead over the desk getting a workout from the ruler.”

“Catherine, don’t forget the back of the float! It looks like the Headmaster’s study is busy today.”

“Oh, your right. The two blondes touching their toes are perfectly positioned for his cane.”

“Nothing but six of the best!”

“You can say that again, Daniel.”

“Nothing but six of the best! Up next is one of the more extreme floats, from Lefien Leather.”

“Oh, that leather cat suit looks awful hot from up here.”

“Would you rather be freezing in those schoolgirl outfits we just saw, Catherine?”

“You know it! Now comes my favorite part of the parade, The giant balloons!”

“We have a giant flying paddle, and a hairbrush. Ohh, and that padded sawhorse is new.”

“I haven’t seen that one before. It looks like a circular arrowhead.”

“I bet you haven’t seen it before, but you probably felt it. It’s a ginger plug for figging.”

“Oh yea. Your right Daniel, I have never saw one, just felt a few.”

“Next up, we have Inquisition Goods, makers of some of the finest Medieval toys available.”

“Those hooded executioners sure look ominous. That one is really flogging the woman secured to the St. Andrews Cross.”

“The blonde in the pillory is looking like she is have a good time. Oh her execution just dropped his tawse and, yup, there he goes, rogering her good.”

“What a lucky girl! Next up is the all female marching band, ‘Yelping Ladies’ performing ‘Spank Dance.’ Look at their Color Guard jump. Those drum majors are not holding anything back.”

“It is called ‘Spank Dance’ for a reason. Next we have the float by Domestic Depot. What a lovely bedroom scene they have created this year. That bride is sure getting it.”

“A hairbrush in a groom’s hands has straighten out many bridezillas. I sure worked for me. Wow, look at those jugglers through around those paddles, they are an experts in dealing with the hard wood.”

“I bet they get plenty of practice. Catherine, it looks like we are nearing the end of this years parade, but first we have the float from the sweet people over at College Accessories. It looks like they have a lovely dorm room scene.”

“Daniel, I can tell you haven’t been to a College in quite a few years, because that isn’t a dorm room, its a sorority housemother’s room.”

“Oh, your right. And those sister sure have been naughty. Good thing they are right after the paddle jugglers, that housemother looks like she might need a replacement paddle soon.”

“There is our last float, and as is tradition, there is Spank Claus. Daniel, can you tell what is he giving out to all the naughty girls and boys this year?”

“Those are little wooden spoons!”

“Hopefully they won’t have to wait until they get home to be used.”

“I agree.”

“Well, I’d like to thank you all for coming out on this lovely Spanksgiving Day. Today’s parade was sure a great one. I’m Catherine Littlebum.”

Ivy wandered the dormitory aimlessly while she attempted to absorb what she just witnessed. Her mind floated along in the same manner as her feet, first questions if it really was Jessie standing there, then if it was some kind of prank to more intimate questions whose obvious answers sent shivers down her spine. Insignificant of the question, or the implications presented by their possible answers, Ivy’s mind kept flashing back to the portrait of her room.

Like every wandering path, they always lead to an answer. Ivy’s happened to end at the door of her own room. Instinctively she started fishing through her pockets for her keys but on the second go around she realized they were sitting on the dresser, next to the door. In her haste to escape she had forgot her keys. Knocking was her only choice. It was definitely preferable to walking in on something like she did earlier.

Jessie took a quick peek through the peephole before slowly opening the door, hiding herself behind the door. Ivy entered hesitantly, unsure what she would find. Her mind had created some crazy ideas of what she would find, but none of it prepared her for reality. Walt and Jessie were dressed just like they had been previously, except Jessie’s shorts were in their correct location. Perfectly normal.

Everyone looked at each other in silence, waiting for someone to speak first. Walt believed it would be more appropriate for Jessie to start, though she couldn’t form the correct words in her head.

“It’s OK.” Jessie mumbled. She flashed a quick glance down at Walt and he got the message loud and clear.

“I’m a little hungry. How would you ladies like a pizza?” Walt said, standing up from his seat on the futon.

“Ah, ok.” Ivy accepted politely. She was much more interested in the prospect of getting some alone time with Jessie than food, but college taught her never to refuse free food.

“Supreme, please?” Jessie asked, looking down and slightly rolling her shoulders in her best “I’m Your Princess” look. Walt gave her half smile, signally she was pushing it, but would get her way.

The last thing Walt heard as he closed the door behind himself was Ivy saying, “You get spanked!?”

Walt contemplating taking his truck across campus to the good local pizza joint, though the thought of finding a parking he could fit into dashed the idea. They would suffer with the chain place at the edge of campus. A block walk wouldn’t be too bad in the chilly Autumn air.

Walt knocked on Jessie and Ivy’s door about 30 minutes later, holding a cool large supreme pizza. Jessie opened the door a moment later, ushering him to the futon. He sat the box down on the small TV tray they had set up and each took a slice. The silence as they ate simply built upon the tense present since Walt had returned.

Ivy finally couldn’t take it any more and dropped her half-ate piece on the box. “I’m so sorry. It was all my fault. It was my fault, not Jessie’s. She shouldn’t have been sp..sp.. punished because of me. I was just lonely. And..and the party seemed like a good chance to meet someone and she didn’t want to go. She really didn’t. I convinced her. Then she didn’t want to drink, but I made her and she wanted to go home but I won’t. She was just being a good friend. It wasn’t her fault.”

Walt sat back and acted like a priest, allowing her to confess all her sins. He knew it would probably be the last saintly thing he did that evening. Jessie had explained everything to Walt while Ivy was wandering the dorm, but he wanted to hear it from the horse’s mouth. He wanted to make sure everyone was on the same page because things would turn sour quickly if either of the girls misunderstood his next actions.

“What do you propose?” Walt asked when Ivy stopped for more than a moment.

“Hmm…that I…hmmm…get…the same…” Ivy stammered.

Walt could see her attempt to skirt the issue by avoiding the magic word. “Which would be?”

Ivy played with the hem of her sweater just like Jessie did when she was in trouble. Walt had to take a deep breath to prevent a broad smile from spreading across his lips. He added a little angle to his eyebrows to increase the pressure on Ivy, and reinforce the seriousness of the situation she was attempting to place herself in.

“Ah…spaaannnking.” Ivy finally said, barely holding back the tears she could feel forming at the edges of her eyes.

“And what kind of spanking do you deserve?” Walt asked. Clarity was essential for the punishment to work, but was especially important due to the lack of any relationship between Walt and Ivy.

“Hu?” Ivy didn’t really understand the question.

“Jessie got it bare-bottom with the hairbrush. Do you believe you deserve a spanking exactly like the one Jessie received?”

“Yes…” Ivy eked out.

Walt stood up and gave one last look at Jessie before continuing. His princess stood in nearly the same spot where she had been an hour earlier when Ivy walked in, albeit facing the room rather than the wall. Her left thumb was firmly pressed against her lips as she attempt to avoid chewing on her nails. A quick little nod sent Walt attention back to her roommate.

“OK, bend over your desk with your forearms flat on the desk.”

Ivy kept her head down as she looked sideways at Jessie then back to Walt. She knew she was the perpetuator of this situation and retreating at this point scared her more than continuing.

She sulked over to her desk and bent over as was requested.

Walt scooped up the hairbrush off Jessie’s desk before getting into position behind Ivy. “Jessie got 18, 42 then 25 swats. She knew better than to slack off and since this is your first time, I am going to half the number for you, this time.”

Jessie didn’t miss the sigh of relief from the bent girl. She wished Walt would have let her off that easy. From his previous comments, she was a little worried he might bend her over again once he completed with Ivy.

“Naughty girls don’t get to keep their panties up.” Walt leaned forward slightly, hooking his index fingers under her waistband. After a pause he slowly pulled them down until her yoga pants and panties were at mid thigh. He took a step to his left, presenting the virgin bottom to the room.

“Do not stand up until I tell you, nor attempt to reach back and cover you bottom, understand?”

“Yes sir,” Ivy didn’t know why she added sir, but it seemed appropriate under the circumstances.

“OUCH!” Ivy yelped. The first swat bit hard into her soft flesh, sending ripples flowing out while leaving an angry red oval behind.

“Awwwooocchhhheee!” Ivy wiggled her bottom about as the second swat landed on her other cheek.

Ivy tried to stay strong, like she had read in all those stories, but reality hurt too much. Tears streamed down her face as Walt reached a dozen. Her emotions flowed with the tears, paying games in her head. She flashed from thankful to resentful to asking herself why she even thought this was a good idea. Resent faded around the second dozen and by the end of the third dozen, she was only thankful. Thankful, sorry and sore.

“I think that is enough for now. You can get up and place yourself against the wall like you saw Jessie earlier.” Walt took a step back from the crying girl and looked at his girl. She still at her thumb at her lips. “Have you been chewing on your nails?”

“No Sire!” Jessie said quickly, removing her hand from in front of her face.

“Good.” He said while stretching out his right shoulder. All that spanking begins to hurt he thought to himself. He chuckled at the joke, even if the girls wouldn’t have agreed it was funny.

Ivy moved to the prescribed spot and Walt returned to his previous seat on the futon, leaving Jessie standing awkwardly in the center of the room. Her bottom had a mild throb and she didn’t want to entice any new fire down here by sitting down, but she was becoming increasingly uncomfortable the longer she just stood there. She thought about laying down on her bed, but she was concerned he might think she was being antisocial and give her tail another workout.

She settled on a half sitting/half leaning against Walt position on the futon as he watched the news.

“Are you going home tonight or staying here?” Jessie asked Walt at the commercial break between news programs.

“I brought an overnight bag in case it got to late. I figure I should run out and grab it,” Walt got up and started towards the door, with Jessie in tow.

“I love you Daddy!” Jessie said quietly when they reached to door, wrapping her arms around him in a big hug.

Walt bent down and kissed Jessie before opening the door. “I almost forgot, your mom called yesterday and said your parents would be arriving on Tuesday next week.”

“Why did she call you?”

“You dad wanted to ask if I could hide your Christmas present so they could fly up at Christmas.”

“You aren’t going to let me peak are you!?” Jessie narrowed her eyes at Walt. Her eyes popped back open when Walt’s hand swatted down onto her backside. “Ouch!”

“Not unless you’d prefer more of that,” Walt smirked.

Jessie twisted her mouth to the side as she contemplated her husband’s offer. “I’ll have to think about it.”

Walt tried to focus on road and not the destination. It was especially hard to do this evening because of the stressful cause of this trip. Normally he preferred to make this trip in the daylight, rather than the darkened evening of late autumn. A few light flurries didn’t help circumstances.

The small city appeared suddenly out of the corn fields and patches of woods. It was a quaint town, with a couple dozen small business focused on serving the towns primary employer or the dozens of farmers in the surrounding countryside. It was at this point in the drive that Walt often yearned to sell his house in the larger city and move out here. The thought of at least an hour commute to work every morning always quashed the dream.

Walt made his way down the two lane streets, occasionally turning right or left as needed. Arriving at his destination, he was happily surprised to find an empty angle parking spot. Often he had to drive around the block a few times to find one or try to parallel park the 3/4 ton Silverado. The later would be a torture even the best driving instructor, especially with the popularity of Honda Civic’s in the area.

The burly construction manager overtook the building with the determination of a Caesar conquering Gaul. The night security guard only gave a half-hearted attempt to interrupt his progress. The comfortable confines of his desk and the fact Walt appeared to have 6 inches, 50 pounds and 30 years on the teenager did help persuade him into any real action. Walt didn’t pay his meek questions any notice, entering the stairwell and climbing to the 4th floor, two stairs at a time.

—-

“Daddy!?” Jessie exclaimed with a clear mixture of excitement and trepidation. She was always happy to see him, though worried why he hadn’t called. Her concerns didn’t prevent her from attacking him with a bear hug.

“Hi baby,” Walt replied damply, though joining his offspring in the warm embrace for a moment.

“So why are you here?” she asked, ushering him into her dorm room. She picked up on his sullen attitude as soon as she closed the door. “It isn’t Grandma Winthrop, is it?”

“Oh, good,” she relaxed into her desk chair at the good news. “So why are you here?”

“Well, we need to talk.” he said as he unclipped his phone from its holster.

Those four words sent a shiver down the girl’s spine. Walt only ever used that phrase when he needed to have a serious discussion with her, and if grandma was doing better, it probably involved her.

“I found these online yesterday and I wanted to discuss them with you.” He made a few swipes on his phone before passing the device to her.

She already knew the basic premise of the phone’s content, the extend of content was the only question. It only took her a glance to know he had seen everything.

“You care to explain?”

“Daddy…hmmm….hmmm…I can explain…I…” She knew lying would make her predicament worst though saying the truth would probably make things worst also. Nothing was her best bet.

“You skipped class, went out partying when you should have been studying and then failed your exam? That sound about right?” Walt glare bored straight into Jessie’ soul.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, looking down to avoid the look of disappointment wrote across his face.

“You are always sorry that you got caught, I am disappointed that you put yourself in this situation.” He let the words soak in for a few moments as he looked down onto the pig-tails sprouting from her head. He was glad she was too ashamed to look at him, because she could bring him to his knees at will.

“Please!” she tried again, raising her voice slightly while opening her eyes extra wide. He responded with a harder glare, reminding himself he had to be strong. He knew if she really started pouting, she’d melt his heart and he’d just forgive her.

She was doomed and there was nothing she could do now to save herself. It didn’t mean she wouldn’t try. She swept her eyes down and away from Walt’s glare. “It’s there some other way?” she asked, even as she fetched the wooden hairbrush from atop her dresser.

She stared at the highly polished maple backside for a moment, remembering an incident shortly after she moved into the dorms. Ivy and her had been getting ready to go out when her roommate commented about what a nice hairbrush she had. It hadn’t been her intention to bring it with her to college, rather it was insisted upon her.

“Come on, no more dawdling.” She handed him the instrument of doom, then played with the hem of her college sweatshirt as she waited for more instructions. He hadn’t yet sat down, so she doubted she’d be going over his lap. She wasn’t sure if this was a good thing, since going over his lap meant a more embarrassing, thought generally less painful spanking.

“Where is your exam at?” Without thinking, she turned and fished the stapled sheets from a folder on her desk. “I’ll take that. Get out a sheet of paper and something to write with. We are going to go through your exam until you know ever answer.”

She groaned at the revelation, though fetched a blank sheet of paper and a mechanical pencil.

“Bend over your desk,” he commanded. Initially she had her legs quite close to the back of her pushed-in desk chair, though a few taps with the hairbrush on the top of her thighs prompted her to move her feet backwards, until her torso was nearly horizontal. Walt wasted no time preparing his target by dropping Jessie’ shorts and panties.

“What is the formula for the measurement of kinetic energy?” he asked.

“KE equals mass times velocity squared.” she answered with as much confidence allowed by her vulnerable position. CRACK! “Aheee” she cried out when the hairbrush bit into her tender flesh.

“Correct,” he stated. “What is the formula for momentum?”

“ah…force times … ah ….mass?” she answered then tensed up in preparation for another spank. He didn’t disappoint, bringing the makeshift paddle down in five quick blows.

“Wrong. Momentum is mass times velocity.”

Walt continued through her exam, giving her a single swat for correct answers and five for incorrect answers. She passed through the ten multiple choice questions with only 18 swats. It was more than enough to focus her attention on her stinging bottom, thought not quite enough to draw out more than the occasional tear.

The short answer questions were her downfall, on both the exam and her current resolve. She only answered two of the ten correctly, and paid for it. The sting of the little paddle quickly overtook her, reducing her to a teary mess. Jessie could barely see the sheet of paper in front of her when they reached the calculation problems.

She didn’t even try on the five calculation problems, simply surrendering to the fact she would take another 25 swats and hopefully it would be over. When Walt noticed her giving up, it actually became easier for him to spank her. Until this point, every tear she shed drove a spike into his heart, but when she gave up, it reinvigorated his annoyance with her. Her lack of determination was a constant conflict between them, often ending with her in a similar position.

Walt removed his hand from her lower back and she instantly bolted upright. She danced in a circle, clutching her flaming bottom. He scratched his eyebrow, avoiding watching her obscene gesture while he gave her a few moments to regain her senses. “Why don’t you go stand over there for a while,” he said pointing to the only clear section of wall in the dorm room.

Whipping tears from her eyes, Jessie obeyed him with tiny steps. She knew what was expected and crossing her arms behind her while holding up the back of her sweatshirt. Her glowing bottom would be on display for some unknown length of time and she just hoped it ended before Ivy returned. What would Ivy say, she asked herself. Any response would be mortifying.

Walt took a seat on the futon and flipped on the News. He would have preferred to read the paper or anything quietly, though in his haste he had forgot to grab it. The News would have to do, even if it gave Jessie a sense of time. An hour of reflection though would do her well.

Forty minutes into Jessie’s vigil, Ivy decided to crash the party, sweeping into the room before Walt or Jessie could react.

“Hello,” Ivy said, tossing her book-bag onto the futon next to Walt. “Jessie, you didn’t say….”

“YEEKS!” Jessie screeched, at the intrusion. She instinctively turned to her right, away from Ivy and Walt, while shielding her front by pulling he sweatshirt down. The action had the undesirable effect of highlighting what had only been slightly noticeable under the back of the over-sized shirt.

“Uhmmm Uhmmm, sorry,” Ivy grabbed her book-bag and almost ran out the door.

“Do I need to pull this car over?” A simple phrase that strikes fear in to kids everywhere. Well maybe not everywhere with all this political correctness, but it always struck fear into my sister and I. It was the ultimate threat during any long road trip. They never followed through on the threat, mainly because Sabrina nor I ever dared to test them.

This time was no difference. In two hours we’d be back at college, getting ready for the spring semester, so making Mom mad now would probably result in us skipping our normal trip to Sam’s to stock up on food and stuff. A girl’s got to eat, occasionally, and if the rents pay for it, the more money I have for fun. I decided just to crank up the volume on the movie to drown out that annoying game.

The backseat armistice didn’t make it a full hour. My movie ended so I shifted over to reading some for my lit class. Might as well try to get ahead, since there isn’t much to see outside. Just trees and the occasional farm as we rolled down the state highway.

“Can’t you play some other game?” I snipped at Sabrina after that repetitive music disrupted my reading for the 50th time.

“I told you earlier I have it all the way down.”

“Then play something else,” I shot back.

“Why should I?” Sabrina smirked. I think I saw her even turn the volume up on her iPad. It sure

“Oh stop being such as b…Witch,” I corrected myself just in time.

“Girls, enough now!” Mom chastised from the front seat.

Sabrina pursed her lips and glared at me. I silently mouthed back “bitch”. She mouthed “baby” I think.

I could feel my face getting a little flush as my temper quickly rose. I hated being called the baby, and Sabrina damn well knew it. Growing up as the youngest I was always referred to as the baby of the family and I hated it. I am almost 21 years old, not some fucking infant! My temper overwhelmed all sense of reason and I shoved the backpacks sitting between us at Sabrina.

“Owe, quit!” Sabrina cried out when the books in her backpack struck her funny bone. I gave her a fake smile, mocking her discomfort, which just got the backpacks shoved back into my lap.

“Hey!” I snapped as my open backpack ricochet off my leg and spilled across the floor.

“That is enough of this!” Mom barked from her driver’s seat. The next thing I realize is the sudden deceleration of the Suburban as mom hit the brakes. She pulled the car off the side of the road at the grass entrance to one of the fields on our right.

Sabrina and I looked at each other with equal parts fear and anger as Mom got out. What the hell had we gotten ourselves into?

Mom opened the rear hatch and started shuffling through the duffel bags. I tried to sneak a peak of what she was searching for but the third row of seats blocked my view. I wouldn’t have to wait long, because she closed the hatch and walked around towards my door.

“Both of you, get out here NOW!” Mom barked after opening my door.

Sabrina and I couldn’t help but plead in unison, “Moomm.”

Mom just shot us that ‘don’t you dare tempt me’ look. With a huff, I undid my seat belt and slid out onto the grass. Sabrina followed me once she climbed over the pile so stuff that had been separating us. Mom stood there with her hands on her hips glaring at us until Sabrina stood beside me.

“I’ve had enough of this bickering that has been going on between you two since Christmas break started. I don’t know what has gotten in to you to but I’m going to end it right down.” Sabrina and I both knew how she intended to end our bickering, but mom didn’t like to leave any doubt in her lectures. “With two whooped butts.”

“Com’on mom,” I pleaded while giving her the best puppy dog eyes I could muster.

“You don’t have to do this we’re sorry,” Sabrina pleaded.

“Yea, really sorry.” A car flew by, reminding us how exposed we were on the side of the road.

“You will be,” Mom chided. How cliche, though true. “Now drop those jeans and put your hands on the running board.”

“What here?” I asked like I was surprised. Of course it was going to occur here, Mom never waited once she announced a whooping.

“Please mom!” Sabrina pleaded.

“Please,” I added for good measure. It just got another glare from Mom saying we’d pushed her way too far already.

I started fumbling with the top button on my jeans, wasting as much time as possible in the vain hope Mom would give in and let us get back in the truck.

All hope of a reprieve was quashed when Mom said, “fine, you can take your jeans all the way off.” This was extra bad. I stopped working at the top once the zipper was down and instead focused on taking off my sneakers. I knelt down, instead of bending over, and pulled one foot out then the other, stepping on the top of my shoes to prevent my socks from getting dirty. I glanced to my left to see Sabrina with her shoes already off and standing back up to shimmy off her jeans. I followed suit, wiggling my hips until my jeans fell to my ankles.

I hooked my fingers into the waist strip of my thong and slide it down to join my jeans before stepping out of both articles. On a dare, Sabrina and I only packed g-strings and thongs to bring home for winter break. Mom was very old fashion in the panty department and prohibited us from wearing anything skimpier than a simple bikini style. Wearing only outlawed underthings for three weeks was had been a rush.

I folded semi folded my pants before handing them to Mom. She just tossed both sets into the back seat then closed the back door. Sabrina and I shuffled our shoes over until we were facing the side of the SUV then bent forward until we held onto the chrome tube that acted like a running board. A light breeze swept across the field to tickle our intimates, reminding us of our exposed position. I shivered, sending my dark locks spewing over my head.

“You are old enough to know better than bicker like little kids!” Mom chided from behind us.

“Yes ma’am,” Sabrina and I said.

Mom whipped the hairbrush down onto Sabrina’s backside a couple of times before reaching over my sister and engaging me.

“Owe owe owe,” I cried out when the hairbrush bite into my flesh. Sabrina soon enough echoed my cries with her own when a second volley took her. Back and forth Mom would spank Sabrina then me 3 or 4 times, always making sure we both got the same punishment for the joint crime. Mom was funny about us getting into trouble together and had always spanked us side by side when we did.

“Oach I’m sorry,” I cried as the sting really started to take hold. I danced from foot to foot during my slight reprieve. The fussing just earned me the next volley at the tops of my thighs. “AAAAAHHHHEEEEEE,” I yelped at the fresh sting.

“EEEEIIIIEEEEEE” Sabrina echoed as Mom repeated for her.

I clenched my teeth in preparation for the next onslaught, and Mom didn’t let me down, peppering my sit-spots. I didn’t cry out, just forced more tears until my vision has completely blurred over. Mom scolded us on our childish behavior then started spanking away again.

I’m not sure how long we were bent over, but Mom made sure your butts were well whooped. When she finally stopped Sabrina and I were a crying mess, promising anything and everything to make it stop.

“Ok, girls, I want you to apologize to each other then you can get into the truck,” Mom told us. I shot upright and instantly grabbed for my bottom. I had to put out the roaring fire and rubbing while dancing in a circle seemed like a good method at the moment. Sabrina joined me dancing across the grass. Our hands only left our bottoms to wipe away the tears.

“Girls!” Mom’s voice rose a little to get our attention.

I was instantly pulled back to reality. My nakedness took precedent over by bottom. I ran to give Sabrina a big hug.

“Sorry, Savannah,” Sabrina apologized.

“Sorry, sis,” I told her. I felt safe and forgiven, yet a little awkward in her arms. The closeness of our embrace guaranteed the touching o four lower halves. Mom broke up our embrace when she joined in.

“You two are forgiven for all that bickering.” Mom cooed. After a moment, she let go of us and took a half step back. “But you are still in trouble for not obeying me, so instead of corner-time, you can spend the rest of the way to your apartment just like that, without any iPad or phone.”

We knew better than to argue. Mom still held that fearsome hairbrush and wasn’t afraid to use it.

“Now into the truck, you can sit ON your jeans.” Mom prompted her command with a firm swat to our tender bottoms.

“Ouch!” I yelped as I scampered after Sabrina. Her normally chocolate bottom had a dared maroon glow to it. I knew mine probably looked the same, and from the fire it was emitting, I knew it wasn’t going to be back to it’s smooth complexion for a couple of days.

The rest of the ride was full of painful bumps. You never realize the importance of a good suspension until sitting on denim with a well spanked bottom. Getting to school wasn’t much better, since Mom wouldn’t let us put our jeans on until we had ‘proper’ panties. Having not packed any, we had to go into our apartment sans jeans. Luckily Mom allowed us to put on our jackets, which covered came down to mid-thigh. Thank goodness for our trip to Chicago last Christmas, otherwise living in Georgia we would never had bought the longer pea coats.

The series about starting and marketing and adult blog is still way too rough, so here is a little diversion instead.

“I Feel You”

Roll on the bed, me and my man
His little plan to get me over you
Panties hookin’ on down, yeah
Spankin’ my bottom a thousand ways
There’s just one thing

[Chorus:]
I can’t go anywhere, I can’t do anything
No, I can’t close my eyes without you in my dreams
You won’t leave me alone, even though I know you’re gone
I get it with something new, but I feel you
Swatting like you were a hand
Takin’ me to the edge
Hey girl, come dance for me
You provided the melody in my head

On the bed of my room
By the light of the midnight moon
Baby, I feel you
You always knew what to do, and did it good
You never left me wanting to do it again
Others made me cry, make a fuss and beg for mercy
But there’s just one thing wrong

I can’t go anywhere, I can’t do anything
No, I can’t close my eyes without you in my dreams
You won’t leave me alone, even though I know you’re gone
I get it with something new, but I feel you
Swatting like you were a hand
Takin’ me to the edge
Hey girl, come dance for me
You provided the melody in my head

Your weight, your hardness
Brushy, since you broke over my behind

I can’t go anywhere, I can’t do anything
No, I can’t close my eyes without you in my dreams
You won’t leave me alone, even though I know you’re gone
I get it with something new, but I feel you
Swatting like you were a hand
Takin’ me to the edge
Hey girl, come dance for me
You provided the melody in my head

“So tell me, how is he transition going? It was so great to hear Aunt Martha left you the house. We all knew it would get back to Willow Groove.” Grace said, talking an oreo from the plate on the coffee table.

“Brooklyn was growing old. Adam was offered a nice retirement package from the city and I had enough time to retire also, so

“Amber getting into Myra probably didn’t help.”

“Oh yea, she was skeptical at first. Yale and Stanford where her top 2 choices, but the full ride really us convince her to go to Myra for undergrad instead.”

Cling cling went the door chimes signifying the arrival of the Grace’s two guests. “That must be Marie and Julia,” Grace said getting up to greet her new guests.

“Sorry we’re late. Melissa had to have a discussion with my hairbrush before I left,” Julia stated taking off her coat. “I don’t know what gets into that girl sometimes. It is like tomorrow is the first day of kindergarten, not her sophomore year of college.”

“Well hopefully the hot heine will temper her behavior,” Grace replied, taking the platter from Marie. “Julia, Marie, this is Grace, Grace this is Julia and Marie,” Grace introduced before slipping off to the kitchen.

“Nice to meet you,” Marie offered her hand, which Gretchen stood to shake.

“You as well,” Gretchen replied.

Julia and Marie both took seats across from Gretchen and the sofa she was sharing with Grace.

“Wow, 20 minutes late. I didn’t think I took that long,” Julia said, noticing the time on the grandfather clock in the corner.

“So, you still spank your daughter?” Gretchen asked.

“Of course I do. And I will until she’s married,” Julia replied. “Didn’t you grow up here?”

“Yea, I just thought that tradition would have ended long ago,” Gretchen said.

“Aaghhh, I don’t know how you all got me to agree to that one,” Gretchen squirmed a little.

“Tequila!” Julia pronounced.

“What are pine cone races?” Marie asked hesitantly.

“You don’t want to know,” Gretchen answered quickly.

“It’s a relay like race. The guys run this obstacle course then fuck their girlfriend until they cum, slip a pine cone into her ass then she repeats the course without letting the pine cone come out.” Julia explained, much to Gretchen’s embarrassment.

“No,” Marie answered meekly. The blush gathering in her cheeks gave away the lie.

“Sure you didn’t,” Julia grinned.

“Noting really,” Marie denied even as she felt her cheeks grow hot.

“Come on, tell us!” Julia eagerly pestered her friend.

“It couldn’t be worst that what we did,” Gretchen added her support of Julia.

“Kind of. Between my junior and senior year we bet the Nu Rho Delta girls we could get more pledge signups than them and we lost,” Marie related.

“The Nu’s got more pledge signups than you? They are still the nerds right?” Gretchen asked.

“Yea,” Marie conceded.

“So what was the bet?” Grace asked.

“Hell week. All the Sigma officers spent orientation week under the same conditions as their pledges spend hell week,” Marie said.

“So, I don’t remember hell week being that bad when I pledged,” Gretchen asked. “What? Bad food and a little paddling?”

“Nu girls are screwed up though. They basically lock their pledges in diapers for the week and spank them if they wet the diaper.” Marie explained.

“Your kidding,” Grace said.

“Unfortunately no,” Marie admitted, to the chucking of the other ladies. “I think all five of us officers got spanked every day that week. The worst part was asking to be changed, especially when you knew it was wet.”

“Why didn’t you take it off when you were at the house?” Julia asked.

“They used these little luggage locks with a short metal chain around our waists. Tracey, one of the VPs tried to get out the first day and they found out. She squealed like a pig when they used that hairbrush on her. Then they didn’t powder her when the diaper was replaced. She complained about diaper rash for two weeks.”

“Yikes, I remember how much trouble Melissa was that one time she had diaper rash,” Julia commented.

“I could imagine. Amber got it the first time I left her with her father unsupervised. Not a fun baby.” Gretchen mentioned.

“Well we should probably get started on planning the alumni dinner,” Grace refocused the group on the reason they were meeting.

This post is not for you purist out there. Those who believe the bare hand is the best and only way to spank a naughty behind. This can be effective, but can also lose its impact as a girl ages. Over time and among various cultures, different tools have been employed to impart a more lasting message to the naughty girl, without causing harm to the spanker. Below is a list of every implement I have ever heard of being used, including the less appropriate ones. Let me know if I missed any.

Implement

Impact

Description

Usable Positions

Bare Hand

Light

A open palm slapped down onto the bottom. Typically used for minor offenses and in public situations and can be effectively applied through clothes or on bare skin

Any – Typically used over the knee

Wooden Hairbrush

Flat hairbrush (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Mild

The back of a solid wood hair brush is used as a small paddle. Typically used my mothers spanking their daughters because of the easy access while in the girl’s room.

Any – Typically used over the knee

Wooden Spoon

Mild

The back of a solid wooden cooking spoon is used as a small paddle. Typically used my mothers spanking their daughters because of the easy access while in the kitchen.

Any – Typically used over the knee

Spatula

Mild

The blade of plastic or rubber cooking spatula is used as a small paddle. Typically used my mothers spanking their daughters because of the easy access while in the kitchen. Has more of stingy impact than the wooden spoon.

Any – Typically used over the knee

Wooden / Plastic Ruler / Paint stirrer

Mild

A plastic or wooden foot long ruler is used as a small paddle. Typically associated with Catholic Schools and Nuns in America. A paint stirrer is effectively the same implement as a wooden ruler, though lighter in weight.

A narrow slat of wood has one section cut down into a handle. The broader blade is then applied to the bottom. Often associated with American schools and Greek Fraternities and Sororities. Typically Southern and Rural American implement.

Short ones – Any
Longer ones – All standing positions

Ping-Pong / Table Tennis Paddle

Français : ping-pong (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Mild

The paddle used to play Ping-Pong, Table tennis or associated games. Effectively the same as a hairbrush though often lighter. The different textures can have different effects than a hairbrush when applied directly to bare skin.

Any – Typically used over the knee

Spencer Paddle

Heavy

A larger paddle with wholes drilled in the striking surface to reduce air resistance and increase impact. These wholes often cause welting to occur.

All standing positions

Knoppler Paddle

Mild-Heavy

A smaller squarish paddle were hard leather is used as the striking surface instead of wood.

Any

Bath brush

Mild-Heavy

A variation of the hairbrush with a larger, heavier head and a longer handle.

A leather belt is used as a single strand or doubled over then brought down onto the bottom.

All standing positions

Strap

Heavy

A variation of the belt. A single length of leather often the doubled over and sown together.

All standing positions

Tawse

Tawse (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Heavy

A variation of the strap with the blade portion cut into two or more tongues.

All standing positions

Cane

Heavy

A thin long stick, typically made of bamboo or rattan, though any flexible wood works. Often associated with English schools.

All standing positions

Slipper

Mild

A simple house slipper with the leather sole applied to the bottom.

All standing positions

Whip

Mild-Heavy

A long strip of flexible leather, often braided together to create a multiple meter rope.

All standing positions

Martinet

A simple, small martinet (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Mild-Heavy

A flat piece of leather with one end cut into multiple stripes. The uncut end is then wrapped around itself and secured to create a handle. The tongs are generally less than 12 inches in length. Traditionally used in French households.

Any positions

Flogger

Mild-Heavy

A heavier, larger version of the Martinet.

Any positions

Cat-O-Nine Tails

A leather cat o’ nine tails pictured with a U.S. dollar bill for size comparison. A U.S. dollar bill is about 6 inches (about 15 cm) long. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Heavy

A large heavy version of the Flogger, typically associated with Naval discipline during the late 18th and early 19th centuries.

All standing positions

Switch

Mild-Heavy

A young flexible branch with the sprouts cut off. Used like a temporary cane.

All standing positions

Birch Rod

Mild-Heavy

Multiple switches from the birch or willow tree tied together to strike simultaneously.

All standing positions

Coat Hanger

Heavy

A steel, wood or plastic coat hanger where one shoulder section is held and the other shoulder section is brought down on the bottom. Generally considered abusive.

Any

Extension cord

Heavy

A length of electrical cord used like a short whip. Generally considered abusive and often not effective due to lack of control.

All standing positions

Clothes line

Mild

A length of narrow rope used like a short whip. Generally considered abusive and often not effective due to lack of control.

All standing positions

Flyswatter

Mild

A household flyswatter is swatted onto the bare bottom. Ineffective through clothing do to its light weight. Generally considered abusive and unhygienic.

All standing positions

Chop Sticks

Mild-Heavy

One or two, 18 inch cooking chop sticks are used like mini canes.Generally considered abusive outside of Asian homes.

Any

Rubber hose

Mild-Heavy

A couple feet of narrow rubber hose is looped over and used like a belt. Generally considered abusive.